


Picture of Dorian Gay

by vanceypants



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Ahegao, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Trans Rich Goranski, expensive headphones, it's porn like that's all there is to it it's just goofy-ass porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 19:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15669825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanceypants/pseuds/vanceypants
Summary: "Except this wasn't some Swan Lake pansy bullshit.  This was real macho no-homo cocksuckery.No homo.Yes bi.Or bi and a half, since Michael was full homo.  How'd that work out.  Three fourths homo?  The math surely checked out somewhere, and for a moment, as Rich hummed against Michael's skin, he couldn't help but lose himself in the algebra of it."Michael and Rich enjoy a casual afternoon of oral sex and Polaroid pictures.





	Picture of Dorian Gay

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I wake up and think "I should create something beautiful and worthwhile."
> 
> Other days, I write useless bullshit like this.
> 
> But maybe somebody will get a kick out of this, so here you go.

Rich bit Michael's inner thigh until his boyfriend sucked in a startled breath. Michael's glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose, his hand fumbling up to push them back into place.

So cute. So cute that he had to bite him again. And again for good measure.

Michael moaned, and Rich smiled, because smiling was just the thing you did when you were dating Michael Mell, and he let you put yourself between his legs.

Rich pressed a small kiss to the bite, one hand between his own legs. He strummed his thumb over his clit, panting his breath against Michael's cock. He toyed with himself, the wetness of his cunt obscene, throbbing and burning and fluttering, but he wasn't going to break down and ride Michael this time.

They had a plan here. And if that meant leaving himself craving more, well, that was what sequels were for. 

Rich's other hand steadied itself around the base of Michael's dick. He brushed his thumb along his vein, heavy and pulsing along the underside of his length. His thumbs mirrored each other in movements, one on himself, the other on Michael, and it was only just in that moment that Rich became hyper-aware of Michael's eyes on him, desperately following the path of his forearm and his wrist.

Michael's own fingertips clenched against the couch cushion beneath him, as though desperate to grab onto something. In this case, something unsatisfactory, something completely different from the thing he actually wanted to touch.

It was flattering, to feel so desired.

"Don't forget to get the picture, man," Rich whined, as he leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the tip of Michael's cock. The taste was sharp and familiar and pleasantly taboo, and Rich couldn't wait to fill his throat with it. He licked his lips, a lewd, exaggerated gesture that, like the movements of his hand between his legs, caught Michael's desperate glance.

"Huh?"

"The picture. You have to get the perfect picture. We didn't borrow Jeremy's camera for nothing."

Scattered around them was a plethora of lewd (and occasionally just silly--and, even more blush-inducing, genuinely sweet) pictures they'd spent the weekend snapping of one another. Thighs and lip biting and tits and ass and everything else. Michael was so shy for the camera, but Rich had managed to score a few genuine masterpieces.

But he had a master plan here, something that would belong in the history books. This would be the sort of snapshot that Rich hoped they'd use should he ever become a missing person. A magnum opus of photographic potential.

And it all depended on Michael actually being able to think well enough to pick up the camera and shoot the picture in just the right moment.

Rich kissed a line up Michael's dick, until he reached his lower stomach. He kissed higher, brushing his nose over his abdomen, then slowly brushing his lips over his navel.

Michael's laugh brought nearly as many goosebumps as his moans did. Rich glanced up, as Michael strummed his fingers through the dyed stripe in his hair. "Still not my thing," Michael said with a giddy little smile.

"It could be. If you just opened your mind."

"Maybe someday. But I'll remember your picture, okay?"

"You better."

"I will."

"I know. But I'm just saying. Like. You better." Rich shrugged. "Or I'll just have to keep blowing you until we get it. What's the opposite of blue balls? Like, just an empty, semenless sack, waving in the breeze. That's how many times I'll make you nut, until we get this picture down."

"Jesus Christ."

"Don't let me down, Micharena." He slipped beneath his legs, sliding one finger down and into his own cunt. His body clenched around himself, and Rich moaned lowly. "You get that one?"

"The Macarena but with my name," Michael said breathlessly. "Fuck. Are you...are you-"

"Fingerblasting myself? Hell yeah, babe. You know it!" Rich pressed his thumb against Michael's cock, rubbing against the slit until it was slick with precum. He trailed it downward, letting it zigzag over his flesh until he was once more gripping him at the base.

"You just get me so fucking wet, dude," Rich wetly kissed the head, a loose, openmouthed sort of kiss, just to hear the wheeze in Michael's caught breath. "I do this all the time, thinking about blowing you. You're so sexy."

Michael squirmed deliciously, as Rich curled his lips around his teeth. He sank down, taking the tip between his lips. His eyes rolled upward, catching Michael's gaze, watching the way his blush painted over the bridge of his nose, over his round cheeks. Michael's lip quivered, almost as though he were going to cry, parted just slightly as though his very breath were too overpowering to hold back.

Rich sucked on the head, and used his hand to stroke up, from base up to the junction where his lips formed an O around Michael's dick. He continued, releasing, then back to the base, stroking upward again. His tongue rolled over him, the taste of his precum salty and addictive, coating the hard roof of his mouth.

Michael deserved this, Rich thought as he curled his finger within himself. His toes tensed, a moan pressing from his tongue into Michael's cock. He deserved this, all day, every day. To just have a nice, warm mouth around him, to feel nothing but brainbreaking pleasure day in and day out.

Rich had never considered himself much of a submissive of any sort, but the idea of appointing himself Permanent Michael Mell Blowjob Queen certainly had its merits. Maybe he could get a sash and a crown and a lip balm named after him. Wasn't that really the true American dream, if you really sat down and thought about it?

"Please," Michael panted, his hand pressing lightly to the back of Rich's head. "Please..."

Rich slipped his hand back down, steadying himself, as he took a few more inches into his mouth. He sucked him in about halfway, mouth slick with how much it was watering by that point. He felt the way his cock expanded his cheeks, puffed out his features obscenely. Damn, they needed to get a picture of this too.

Michael was already ahead of him, no longer pawing at his head, but instead scrambling to create polaroids. The flash of the camera dazzled Rich's eyes, and Michael uttered a ludicrous apology.

Rich was too addicted to sucking him off to be able to reassure him. He watched the picture slot from the camera, saw Michael's sweaty fingers take the black square and begin frantically shaking it about to make sure the picture properly captured.

He was perfect. To know that this needed to be documented...how in tune were they? That was some serious soulmates shit, Rich was certain of it! He'd never been more certain of anything before, like, ever! Or at least not since the last epiphany had struck.

And so he sank down deeper, felt his cock penetrate his mouth with force and precision. He wasn't sure if the pulse he was detailing was his own or Michael's, but he was caught up in the rhythm of it. His cunt burned as he drew his finger back, only to press it in all the deeper, moving against all the places that usually drove himself wild.

It wasn't long before one finger became two, or before Michael's cock bottomed out within his mouth. Rich's nose nuzzled against his lower stomach, the smell of his sweat and skin forcing further lust within his already desperately craving body.

"Rich..." Michael trailed off, leaving more breath and vowel in Rich's name that it might ordinarily possess. Rich's heart clawed at his bones, and his head spun, and he was seeing constellations that the gods had never even deemed necessary to invent until now.

The way Michael's cock felt moving in and out of his mouth was a lesson in true artistry, a dance that any ballerina needed to study in order to know what actual beauty in body movement felt like.

Except this wasn't no Swan Lake pansy bullshit. This was real macho no-homo cocksuckery.

No homo.

Yes bi.

Or bi and a half, since Michael was full homo. How'd that work out. Three fourths homo? The math surely checked out somewhere, and for a moment, as Rich hummed against Michael's skin to increase the pleasure each suck would bring, he couldn't help but lose himself in the algebra of it. Trying to balance out both sides of the equation, to see what fit right, where they aligned. Or maybe he needed to bring in some of that line graph shit, see where they fell on the continuum or what the fuck ever.

Why was he going on about this when he had some delicious Mell dick in his mouth? What a waste of headspace that could be dedicated to...well, head.

Rich curved his tongue with every stroke of his mouth around him. The thumb of his other finger pressed into his clit, and he knew he surely wasn't going to last much longer himself. He slowed his movements of his hand, even as his mouth grew more frantically focused on his boyfriend's needs and desires.

Michael gasped, yet another one of those sounds that was too pure to be captured with camera or camcorder alike--Rich had tried, in fact, to capture those pretty little noises with his phone once, but he'd accidentally used a snapchat voice changing filter and, well, frankly it had been hilarious, especially with Michael's stoned guffawing afterwards.

The fact Michael had laughed about it, instead of reprimanding him or growing embarrassed or demanding he delete the footage...if Rich hadn't already known he was in love, surely that would have been the moment he'd talk about on their wedding night. A toast to the exact moment his heart fell into a puddle of goo and sentimentality and total homo-bi-three-quarters-gay love.

Regardless, though, Michael had a sexy voice. Especially when it was all breath and passion, when his fingers were still digging at the couch, when his hips were shaking with the effort it took not to thrust completely into Rich's mouth. He always held himself back.

Very considerate, considering when Michael would go down on Rich, Rich never hesitated to grind against his lips. Michael always earned those quality facefucks.

But Michael was more refrained, or maybe more polite, or maybe just too cute for words. Rich smiled around him, watching him twist as best he could from his vantage point. Sometimes he wanted to clone himself, just to be able to watch himself as he got Michael off. But it wouldn't be the same, would it? There was a sex appeal to these extreme POV shots that simply couldn't be replicated with even the highest quality clone pornography.

"Fuck," Michael hissed. "Fuck, Rich."

Rich pulled his mouth away, trailing his lips back and feeling every inch pass over his swollen lips until, finally, the only thing connecting his mouth with Michael's cock was a long strand of saliva, heavy with Michael's precum and swaying with every pant of Rich's breath. Rich closed his lips, rubbing them together just to feel the way they tingled, then popping them open again audibly. The line between them popped within the air, as Rich leaned down, ran his tongue flatly over the head of his cock.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck," Michael shivered. His glasses had fogged up in the midst of the blowjob, and Rich considered grabbing the camera to snap a picture. But that would have required pulling his fingers out of himself.

And it felt too good, idly touching himself while getting Michael off. Keeping himself on the precipice of desire and need, without letting himself tip over. The pace was just slow enough to keep him hot, without letting him lose into only focusing on himself.

The tease of it was the funnest part, after all. Or at least that was what his horny, Michael loving brain told him.

And that was, like, all of his brain. 100% horny, 100% loving Michael, 100% of the 100% day. 100%.

Rich began to run his tongue over him, licking him from base, over his shaft, until he was at the tip again. He'd linger there, lapping at his precum as Michael's hips rose despite his restraining nature. Rich scraped his fingers over the curve of Michael's thigh, just to get Michael to whimper his desperation once more.

"You're so beautiful," Rich purred. And smiled as Michael's face poured a deeper shade of pink over his dark skin. Michael's eyelashes fluttered behind foggy lenses and his teeth anxiously teased over his lip.

"Thank you," Michael managed to whisper.

"Now," Rich panted against him, placing the barest of kisses to his cock. "Be my good boy, Mikey. Be my good boy, and you cum all over my face, now, won't you?"

"Yeah," Michael breathed. He shivered, voice a rush of insistence, "But just so you know, I still respect you and-"

"Christ sake, Mikey. Disrespect me. Objectify me. I want to be your cum dumpster, dammit."

Michael's laugh was quick, stunned, as he drew off his glasses to wipe the mist from the lenses. Rich winked at him, as Michael fell back down from his high of giggles into a fit of keening mewls, Rich's hand fitting over him like a sleeve.

Rich stroked Michael's cock purposefully, pulling up towards his lips. Occasionally, his tongue would stray out, teasing the tip again, until he had Michael gasping and undulating against the couch.

Michael's glasses had been clumsily returned to his face, his eyes unfocused in pure lust behind them. Rich stretched his fingers within himself, moaning Michael's name in the process.

Michael's head lulled back as he came, Rich's lips falling open to catch him on his tongue. It was sloppy, though, as he'd hoped. His cum filled his mouth, but also hit his cheeks, his chin, dripped from him obscenely.

He couldn't whimper out his need for attention, but watched as Michael, as he'd promised, limply, blindly, swatted out for the camera.

Rich pressed his fingers together, drawing them from his cunt with a little wince--he was so close, so fucking close, but he didn't have time for that now. His fingers glistened with his own wetness.

Both hands propped up, fingers spreading into dual peace signs. Rich let his tongue lull out of his mouth, feeling the obscene heat of his own face that surely painted his freckles and burns in a splotchy patchwork of arousal. He tried to will his face into the proper face to convey cartoonish desire and lust.

And he heard Michael laugh even as the shutter snapped.

"A...you...ahegao? All this to-"

Michael's cum dribbled down Rich's face, sliding from his tongue. Rich curled into, catching what he could and closing his mouth. He swallowed, a touch of disappointment at the lack of taste with how much had ended up on his face--and on the floor beneath them after his obscene posing had caused it to drip off. 

The picture slithered from the automatic camera, and Rich started to reach for it, only to think better with his wet fingers.

Michael took it instead, fanning it tiredly back and forth. The amusement hadn't left his otherwise sex-drained face.

"That's right. I blew you for the meme."

"A really old one at that."

"Hentai is never old, Mikey." Rich shivered as he crawled up Michael's body. Each movement brought pressure and strain against his cunt, until he was resting it against Michael's limp cock. He pressed against it, grinding slowly back and forth over Michael's overstimulated body.

Michael's hands rested against Rich's lower back, a startled groan quivering from his lips. Rich could feel the corners of the picture, still clutched by his boyfriend, press against his spine in the process.

"It's going to look super cute," Michael panted.

Rich's expression faltered. "Cute?" He scowled, and rutted a little fiercer against Michael. "That blows, dude. It was supposed to be funny. And if not funny, then like, symbolic or something. My Picture of Dorian Gay. My orgasms would stay young, while they withered and died within the polaroid. Now what?"

"You're vastly overthinking things. Just shut up and let me eat you out, okay?"

"Nah, I like this. What's wrong, Mikey? Don't you like this Life cereal that I call not-so-dry humping?" Rich paused a second, only to chirp. "Get it? Mikey and life cereal? Like the old commercials?"

"Yeah, I remember a lot of pussy grinding in those retro commercials myself."

Rich grinned, scratching his nails down Michael's chest in admiration. "Oh, I bet you do, cowboy. I bet you do."


End file.
